


the world should be ours

by mintpearlvoice



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Competitive makeouts, F/F, F/M, Spin the Bottle, step one: get your crush to make out with your boyfriend, step two: ?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 02:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20369446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintpearlvoice/pseuds/mintpearlvoice
Summary: Mal and Uma are no longer enemies, but there's no way Mal is ever going to confess her crush. At a party on the royal yacht, Uma ends up making out with Ben... and then daring Mal to make out with her.And Mal doesn't turn down dares.





	the world should be ours

So it’s six months after Audrey, and everyone’s playing spin-the-bottle on the royal yacht’s deck.

Uma, as always, looks infuriatingly perfect: a jagged crop top and patched, painted cargo shorts revealing sleek muscle and perfect abs, and hugging every curve while they’re at it.

Of course Mal wants to kiss Uma. Of course she wants Uma to wrestle her to the ground and make her scream, make her beg.

But if she said anything- Uma would probably crow over it. Relentlessly.

“Ben and...“ Jay gives the empty wine bottle another spin; in the darkness, maybe no one notices her eyes flashing green. The bottle wobbles to a stop. “Uma.”

The pirates at the party whoop and cheer. Uma’s draped over Harry and Gil’s laps, and she gets up elegantly, like she has all the time in the world.

“Show him what you’ve got, Captain,” Harry teases with a wicked grin.

Ben’s expression is the oddest mixture of deer-in-the-headlights and delighted. “Don’t worry, I’m not frightened,” he says to Mal, for her, before slipping from his perch. And, to the party: “we’re all friends here, right?”

Cheers and lifting of drinks all round. The sea air on Mal’s parted lips.

Ben is barely a few inches taller than Uma. “Okay, let’s do this-“

and then Uma’s got a hand at the nape of his neck, another in his hair. She whispers, and Mal twists the wind to hear. “Look at you. You’re so pretty, you know that?”

Ben’s blushing, trying to contain an awkward, goofy grin; Uma goes for his neck.

Her kisses leave faint marks there, shining like rocks where the tide’s pounded over them, blossoming pale red like a time-lapse flower. Then they meet lips to lips, and Mal’s hands twist in the layered organza of her skirt. Her thighs are touching.

Uma, and how deadly she is, how effortless, how she looks so tough until one of those rare and unexpected perfect smiles lights up her whole face. The swordfighter’s calluses on her deft, slender fingers. The way she smells- like something secret, something that blooms.

And Ben. How startlingly warm and soft he is. Those helpless little groans he makes in the back of his throat, almost more than human. That he’s making right now.

“Mal,” Uma says teasingly, drawing back. Like, you know. Leaving her name dangling there.

“What?” She feels awkward juxtaposed against how casual Uma and her crew are. Overdressed in her layers of twirly-shimmery fabric, like a layer cake at a picnic.

“Are you jealous? Or maybe you’re thinking about how, judging from what I’ve seen, your boyfriend is a much better kisser than you are.” She leaves those words hanging in the cool night air, too.

Of course she can’t let Uma insult her like that. (She just gave you a way out, an infuriatingly rational fragment of her brain observes. Down either path.)

“For your information? I’m just as good at kissing as Ben is. I mean, I’ve had way more practice.”

“Fine,” Uma says, with an arrogant lift of her chin. “Prove it, then.”

Mal storms over to her. And then she’s kissing Uma-

Nope. Wait. Uma is decidedly, absolutely kissing her. Plundering her, devouring her, Mal’s lower lip between her teeth.

Like all her strength and will to resist is ebbing from her mouth like smoke Uma breathes in. And the way her knees go weak, and Uma effortlessly holds her up-

Okay. Wow. “Fuck,” she breathes, just staring at Uma. In the moonlight, the other girl looks as stunned as she feels.

She bites her lower lip (already sore, already swollen) to keep from begging, her breathing ragged.

Uma’s expression breaks into one of those brilliant rare grins. “You know what? I take it back. You’re a pretty decent kisser- and so easy to fluster. It’s kind of adorable.”

Uma tucks a lock of violet hair back, smoothing the shell of her ear, and then her chin.

Unfairly, infuriatingly intimate. She can’t help but shiver.

“Mal and I are good at a lot of things,” Ben says cryptically with one of those look-how-diplomatic-I’m-being little smiles, so innocent that it loops all the way back around into being a smirk.

For the rest of the night, she can feel Uma’s gaze on her. Even when she’s belowdecks with her head under Evie’s skirt, Evie whining delightfully and trying to clutch at her hair (“Mal, please, stop teasing me, I can’t, you’re evil,”) she imagines she can feel Uma watching her. Waiting patiently for her to beg.

After the guests have left and everyone else has fallen asleep, Ben’s eyes glint cat-yellow in the dark of their room. Resting his head on a hand, reclining, he regards her intently. “So. You and Uma...”

Mal shakes her head. “Never happened on the Isle. I was jealous of her for threatening my gang’s territory, refused an alliance, and she got pissy.”

He looks a bit puzzled. “Okay. But... you know she likes you, right?”

It’s ridiculous. Mal can’t help but laugh. “Please. At most, she thinks of me as a useful ally.”

“I genuinely think the only reason she captured me was to see what you’d do. It could have been Evie or Jay, it wouldn’t have mattered. She wanted me because she could get a reaction out of you. No matter what I tried to talk to her about- the Isle, her mother, Auradon- she only ever wanted to talk about you.”

Mal can’t help but scoff. “That doesn’t mean she likes me.”

And then Ben asks- gently, genuine, touching her cheek the same way Uma did- “Do you want her to want you?”

Yes is too heavy a word. The yacht would sink. Instead, she just scooches over and rests her head on Ben’s chest, listens to him breathe, a rhythm steady as the waves.


End file.
